Various KHR Drabbles
by Endless-Kaoru
Summary: Just a collection of drabbles from a prompt list on LiveJournal -- now on Fanfiction-net for your viewing pleasure! Various pairings and genres, something for everyone. Please make sure to R&R!
1. Introduction!

This is just a series of drabbles that sprouted from a whole list of prompts on LiveJournal by Lingerosie. I'm planning on doing all twenty-five prompts, and will post them here in the order they are in on the list. Wish me luck~!

There are various pairings, genres (OK, most of it's crack, but there's other ones too.), and possibly even spoilers here and there (though most of it's not ground-breaking.)

Each drabble has a bit different content, so here is sort of an overview into what you may find. If you don't approve, don't read!  
Warning: Cursing, drinking, boy-kissing, smatterings of nudity, implied sex, potential sex, voyeurism, things that'll make your milk squirt out your nose, things that shall forever be burned into your brain, and probably some other stuff.

The KHR crew and anything related belongs to Amano; if I owned them, the KHR universe would be much more chaotic.

Well, enjoy! And make sure to hit that sexy little review button!


	2. Drabble 01

1) He couldn't understand why he woke up with a splitting headache, and couldn't remember getting that drunk the night before. But it seemed the only logical explanation as to why there was a sweaty, painfully naked young man currently lying between his thighs. The man grunted, eyes moving from the body of his former student to his ceiling, mind slowly piecing together the previous nights' happenings. Gokudera, being the royal pain-in-the-ass he was, had ruined one of Shamal's dates in order to complain about one angsty teenage problem after another that, more often than not, centered around the Vongola Tenth. Shamal, great influence that he was, offered the boy the wine that he'd opened for his date, and not long after, they'd cracked into the beer in his fridge. Shamal was a little fuzzy on the details after that, but if the current sleeping arrangements were anything to go by, he could be sure of one thing having transpired between them. A sigh on his lips, he slid out from beneath the sleeping boy, trying not to jostle him much, and headed for the attached bathroom for a shower, making sure to return with aspirin and a glass of water to leave for the likely-sore teenager.  
When the doctor emerged from his shower, the aspirin and water were gone, as were all traces of the silvery-haired Italian ever being there, save an imprint in the mussed sheets. Clucking to himself about the manners of a brat that could just up-and-leave without so much as a 'thank you', he dressed and took his bedsheets to the wash.

* * *

V. 2~ (Because I wrote two versions and couldn't decide which was better)

Belphegor couldn't recall the last time he'd woken with such a horrid ache in his head, right behind his eyes, beating away at the inside of his skull. He brought a hand to his face, shielding it from the bits of sunlight that crept through the curtains at the far end of his room. He couldn't remember getting as drunk as he felt he'd been – because drinking dulled the senses, made him uncoordinated, and was unbecoming of a prince such as himself. He'd usually have stuck to red wine – colorful, like blood, flavorful enough to suit his palate, and sophisticated enough for a man of his standing. But his recent failure (though he'd never admit that it was so, he'd slipped, made a small error in judgment.) made him angry, and his wine had been smashed by one of Xanxus's rages. It left him with few options and, being contained to the castle as he was, even fewer outlets. Picking on the frog could only be amusing for so long, and the boy was quite aggravating in the meantime.

He remembers the first drink – the bitter, burning taste of raw alcohol down his throat. The second drink was less so, and the third started to perk his mood. Beyond that was a haze – after all, he wasn't accustomed to such heavy drinks in such quick succession, and he was quite thin in frame.

And here he lay, cringing from the sunlight in his own bed, and becoming more aware of an unfamiliar weight draped over his lower stomach and thighs, something soft brushing his ankles. He dared a look down his bared torso, and held his breath for just a moment at the sight… His small froggy companion, wearing not a stitch, asleep and draped over the prince's pelvis, the silken sheet draped over his lower body being the only saving grace. Cuts spiderwebbed across the boy's back in some intricate pattern that Bel surely had thought pretty at the time, blood since dried to a dark red. Colorful bruises added another dimension of color, and if it weren't for the mild confusion of finding this boy lying with him, the prince may have declared the designs to be artwork of the highest grade.

There was no doubt what had transpired, with the sweat and fluids as such, however the prince's gut reaction called for him to question his tastes. The smart-mouthed frog-boy, of all options open to him? Surely he could have whisked away one of the prettier handmaidens, and then merely disposed of her upon waking.

Finally, he decided that there was no point to thinking. What had been done had been done and, perhaps, the frog boy did not appear wholly unattractive, so long as his mouth was kept to more resourceful purposes than smarting off to those far his superior. Disentangling himself from sheets and boy, he went about his morning rituals, dressing and bathing, feeling as if he'd done his companion a favor. After all, it is not every day that one is granted the good fortune to lay with a Prince such as himself.

And when finally the boy stirred, and his first words were a sly remark that offended the blonde and a complaint about the abuse done to his body, he was speared with several knives that were careful to not destroy the artwork decorating his back.


	3. Drabble 02

2) _Reborn could claim it was fate that brought the inebriated young man stumbling to __his__ bed that night, though swapping the rooms around might also have had something to do with it._

Reborn awoke suddenly as the door to his room slammed against the wall, his hand going for the gun under his pillow, but he didn't get up yet, gauging the intruder's status. The door shut again, and what sounded like shoes hit the floor. Footsteps wandered across the carpet, and suddenly someone flopped unceremoniously on the bed, landing on top of the previously-sleeping Reborn.

"Get off me! Cow brat!" he snapped, shoving at the inebriated man.

Lambo stared at him in confusion, "What're ya doin' in my bed…?"

"This is _my_ room, you stupid cow!" The assassin snapped, irate. He finally managed to get himself out from under the young man, and moved to get up swiftly.

A hand fisted in the back of his nightshirt stopped him, and Lambo questioned, "Reborn-san~, stay with me~?"

"What are you talking about? Let go of me!" he reached around, trying to work the hand off, but Lambo only latched onto his hand instead, pulling him back down into the mess of sheets. Reborn struggled, but the stupid cow only clung tighter, until the arcobaleno finally pulled out his gun and pointed it dead center at the cow's face.

Lambo froze, going cross-eyed at the weapon, then whined, "Reborn-san~"

"Let. Go. Of. Me." He grit out and, slowly, slowly, Lambo released his captive's arm.

Reborn snorted, mentally weighed the worth of kicking the cow out, and decided it'd be easier to just take over an empty room. Holstering his gun, he turned and left the room without another word.


	4. Drabble 03

3)_Gokudera thinks Yamamoto is a cute drunk._

The guardians were celebrating Yamamoto's birthday at the baseball brat's home, all food and even the odd bottle of sake that had appeared catered by Take-sushi. If it hadn't been for Tsuna's insistence, Gokudera likely wouldn't of even been there. He'd been annoyed by the entire affair, really, until someone passed him a glass of sake and he chugged it, thinking it were water or juice of some sort. The taste was strong, and at first he couldn't help but cough, having only drunk a few beers and wine. His second glass came almost an hour later, when he felt a headache coming on, and unable to find a beer, he chugged another cup and lit up a cigarette. Through the smoke of his cigarette, the party seemed to take on a much more… amusing atmosphere.

Ryohei and Yamamoto's father, both looking like they'd had a fair amount to drink, were arm wrestling at a table, with Yamamoto watching, laughing and smiling and stumbling a little as he went to fetch his father another cup of sake. Tsuna, who'd barely had anything to drink, was watching the arm wrestling match with a look of mixed worry and shy amusement, worriedly reminding them not to get hurt.

And then Yamamoto was in front of the smoker, all smiles and bright eyes, and Gokudera couldn't help the traitorous little thought of, _"He's sort of a cute drunk…"_, and an uncensored portion of his brain happily added, _"I'd totally do him." _while supplying images of the baseball nut wearing not a stitch. Yamamoto's smile brightened suddenly, and the bomber panicked, unsure if he'd spoken aloud.

"Gokudera! I'm really glad you came!" And suddenly the Italian found himself engulfed in a bear hug. The athlete giggled and mumbled into his captive's ear, "In Italy, they kiss eachother a lot, right?" Without waiting for a response, he landed a sloppy kiss on the bomber's cheek before releasing him and tottering back to the two arm wrestlers.

The Italian felt his heart stop as he stared, slack-jawed, at the back of the rain guardian. Until he felt a burning sensation on his thigh and, cursing, he scooped up his fallen cigarette and snuffed it out, patting absently at the small burn through his jeans.

The party seemed like it lasted forever, but Gokudera found himself taking his time about leaving. Even as Tsuna bid them goodnight and left shortly after Ryohei, the Italian wracked his brain for a reason to hang around just a little longer.

Yamamoto's dad was asleep already and, laughing as he stumbled, Yamamoto made a half-assed attempt at cleaning up. Gokudera glanced at the door, and joined the other guardian in collecting dishes. Yamamoto's look of surprise made his hunch his shoulders and turn away, not really able to offer an explanation.

A question dropped from Yamamoto's lips, an innocent thought, perhaps, "Do ya wanna sleep over, 'dera~?"

The nickname, started when Yamamoto had started stumbling over the first two syllables of the bomber's name, made him frown, but he couldn't help how his heart started racing, "Wh-Why would I wanna do that? Idiot!" He turned his back in a show of disdain, tromping off to the sink with a handful of plates.

Arms slipped around his shoulders, and the Italian grunted in surprise. Warm breath blew across his ear, and his face turned red, stomach tying into knots, "I-Idiot! I-I'm gonna drop the—"

"'dera…" Since when was the baseball idiot's voice so deep? "Yer so cute, 'dera~"

The Italian couldn't even find it in himself to object to being called "cute", too busy trying to get his breathing to stop being so erratic. It didn't help that Yamamoto's fingers splayed over his captive's chest, fingers slipping between the buttons of his shirt and brushing skin.

A button popped off and Yamamoto exhaled loudly against Gokudera's ear, and suddenly he found it in himself to _move_. A sudden bundle of nerves, he jerked away, Yamamoto's trailing fingers popping the top two buttons on Gokudera's shirt and leaving his chest mostly bared. Face red all the way to his ears, he shoved the dishes at the other guardian and bolted out the door, unable to open his mouth and speak for fear of what he might say.


	5. Drabble 04

4) "You can't spy on people in the shower!" was Tsuna's admonishing cry to his failed Arcobaleno teacher.  
_"_It's not spying." Lal Mirch hummed to herself, her back turned on the boy as she fiddled with something.  
"Fine, _perving_."  
"It's not my fault your guardians are useless, I'm just teaching them not to drop their guard."

Tsuna opened his mouth and shut it again, not sure what to say to that. Finally he asked, "What do you have there?"

"Pictures." The woman replied, flashing a decidedly _not_ PG photo of one silvery-haired Italian over her shoulder.

Tsuna blanched, "Wh-You took _pictures_, too?! Why?! What are you going to do with those?"

Lal's only response was a pleased little hum as she continued rifling through them. Tsuna didn't know if he should be horrified for his friends or—

"Did you know Gokudera sings? He really does have quite a nice voice."

Yes, Tsuna decided, horrified would be the correct response. "Throw those away! You shouldn't have those!" He left _'What is wrong with you?!'_ unsaid, afraid of her retaliation.

She paused to look contemplative, and finally shrugged, "Oh, fine, ruin my fun." Shoving them into his hands, she stood just as the door swung open. Her face contorted into a frown and she snorted at him, "Tsuna, this is unbecoming of a Vongola Boss! Now throw those away and I'll pretend I never saw them!"

Confusion registered on the boy's face, and then fear, as Gokudera was suddenly gaping over his shoulder at an array of shower pictures of himself and the other guardians.

"J-Juudaime--!" he squeaked, face reddening.

"Ah! Gokudera, this is--! They're not mine! Lal--!"

But his protests were in vain. The Italian had already left the room, mortified.

The following several days consisted of Gokudera avoiding his beloved Tenth until Lal, holding back laughter, revealed the joke to be a 'lesson' for the photographed boys – if she could sneak in and get pictures without their noticing, the enemy could sneak in and get a shot at them.


	6. Drabble 05

5) "So Colonello, you're telling me you've _never_ joined the mile high club?"  
The topic had popped up from seemingly nowhere, though the setting practically begged for the question to be asked of someone eventually.

Another drink, and Colonello wasn't so disinclined to answer, "Nope, kora."

A flight attendant passed through the meeting room with a cheery _'Excuse my interruption!'_ as she collected the empty wine bottles and left a fresh bottle for them. Conversation lulled until the door closed behind her, and then Reborn, unhindered by the alcohol in his system, leered at the army-brat Arcobaleno, "Why would that be?"

Colonello, who _was_ feeling the buzz of the alcohol that his fellow Arcobaleno had been pushing on him, leaned back in his chair with a goofy grin, "What do you care, kora? You interested or something, kora?" It had been a teasing comment, not intended to lead to anything of the sort.

And yet, Reborn's smile made Colonello's grin slip, "Wh-whoa, uh… y-you aren't serious, are you, kora?"

Reborn didn't reply, just stood from his seat and paced past Colonello's to the door. He stuck his head outside, speaking briefly to, the blonde assumed, the flight attendant. Then he shut the door and Colonello heard an audible _click_.

"H-Hey, kora? What're ya locking the door for, kora?"

Reborn returned to the table, leaning over Colonello and resting his hands on the arm rests of the other male. Their lips were only a breath apart and the arms-specialist blushed, pressing his back into his chair.

"I could fix that for you." Said the assassin, and without waiting for a response, he crushed their mouths together. Colonello resisted for only a few seconds, before he finally gave in, arms lifting to grab onto Reborn's tie, pulling him closer.

When Colonello and Reborn arrived in Italy, they were greeted by their Vongola students, Tsuna and Ryohei. They stayed only long enough to for greetings, before Reborn whisked the army-brat off to their hotel room.


	7. Drabble 06

6) _"Okay seriously, what's with the bear?!"_

When Hibari was spotted by the other Vongola guardians walking through their underground base with Kusakabe not far behind, they initially thought nothing of it. And then they noticed the animal in Kusakabe's arms.

"Maybe it's Hibari's new box weapon?" Yamamoto thought aloud.

Gokudera snorted, "As if. Except that bird, He doesn't carry his box weapons outside their boxes. Anyway, it didn't look like much of a weapon."

"Or maybe he's going to raise it as his EXTREME sparring partner!" Ryohei shouted, punching the air. Excitement glowed in his eyes, "Do you think he'll let me fight it?!"

"What if it's Kusakabe-san's?" Lambo wondered, and was mostly ignored.

The guessing continued, their ideas getting more and more farfetched as time passed. And when Hibari and his follower passed by again, the mysterious animal still in tow, Ryohei was quick to approach them.

"What's with the EXTREME bear?!"

Hibari paused, long enough to give him a sideways glance and scowl at the crowd gathered not far behind the boxer. All he offered was, "It's a box weapon." Before walking briskly away.

Kusakabe shifted the small panda cub in his arms, and explained a bit more broadly, "Hibari found a box weapon in his studies and opened it, but he broke its box in the process."

With Hibari gone, the remaining group approached, and Lambo leaned in, face to face with the cub. It turned to look at him, and he smiled, "Yare yare, such a cute weapon…"

"So it really is his new weapon!" Yamamoto gloated, and then laughed sheepishly, "That hedgehog of his is pretty cute, too, don't you think?"

Before any further questions could be asked, Hibari was back, threatening to bite them all and ordering Kusakabe to get back to the lab with 'that thing.'

'That thing growled at the prefect, undoubtedly unaware of the Cloud guardian's violent tendencies, and received a bone-chilling glare that made it freeze and burrow deeper into Kusakabe's arms.

And then they were gone down the hallway.

A few moments later, Ryohei commented, "I bet it would make an EXTREME sparring partner!"


End file.
